Space Dragon
by MovinTarget666
Summary: A deal gone wrong and a crashed shuttle leaves three aliens stuck in Westeros at the climax of Robert's Rebellion. Aria T'loak, her daughter, and Urdnot Wrex are here to stay, so they're going to be carving out some real estate
1. Explosive Entry

**Space Dragon**

 **\- The Battle of the Trident -**

Let it never be said that he was a coward.

Lewyn Martell would face his death with honor, dignity, and a knife in neck of the man that killed him. Lewyn was not dead yet, though, and he would kill as many of the advancing Valemen as he could before his wounds took him. He would not live long, though.

A blade through his stomach had ensured his death, but the blade in his hand ensured many others. It was a great burden, being a Kingsguard, he was peer with the best knights alive, so it would not do him well to lose face when compared to Ser Barristan, who he could see still cleaving men to pieces.

With a roar, he charged forth, eager to kill the men of the Vale. Even as his stomach bled and acid ate at his insides, he parried a blade, sliced open a neck, cleaved the head from a pikeman, and even took the arm off of some nameless knight.

Then he crossed blades with Valyrian Steel. He could recognise the house, Corbray. He did not know the knight he fought, possible a first or second son, but any house with a Valyrian blade was well known.

To die to Steel such as this was a good death, Lewyn decided. He was moments from the end already, and it was only his free hand clutched to the skin of his stomach that kept his intestines from slipping out.

He and the Corbray knight crossed blades, once, twice, thrice, and he knew that on the forth his life would end. But it was not to be.

The shattering of the world brought an end to the fighting. A terrible crash worse than any strike of lightning that rent the skies apart in an explosion of blue. Lewyn and his opponent both turn their eyes to the sky, and both see the strange box falling towards them.

Both threw themselves away, eager to escape, but neither fully did. The box smashed into the earth, shattering. It exploded outward, bent metal showering the Dornishmen Lewyn had led and the Valemen they'd faced equally.

Lewyn groped at the ground, clawing his way to his feet. A cough brought forth blood, and he could feel the blackness of death creeping in. He would face it on his feet, though.

The Kingsguard knight drags himself first to his knees, then upright, and he gazes around. It is not a pretty sight. Men lay dead or dying all around him, and the battle further out has drawn to a complete halt as men from both sides of the war look to the source of the explosion.

Lewyn does as well, and the sight before his eyes proved to be the most baffling of his long life. A bubble of blue magic swirled where once a box stood. It existed only for the first second that he was able to see it, and then it popped, disgorging three figures.

Two were womenfolk, dressed in strange armor and colored a shade he'd never seen a human bear. One was the blue of the sea, and the other of a Targaryen's eye. The third figure was neither of these things, and instead a great hulk of a creature. It landed on its face, but even from his position, he could see that it was far from human. Great scales first worried him of a stoneman, but the figure did not fit.

He would have stared longer at the monstrous figure, but his legs gave out in the midst of his thoughts. He would have crashed to the ground, had it not been for the blue woman. She caught him in wreath of magic, and he settled gently to the ground. Eyes gazing to the heavens, he wondered where this angel had come from.

He could hardly recall ever seeing a woman as comely as her, eyes the prettiest blue as she gazed intently down at him. He smiled at her, at least he would die with a beautiful woman holding him, rather than staring at an ugly Corbray man.

"/\/ /\/ /\/\/\/?"

Her speech was unknown to the Kingsguard, and he'd been educated in everything from the common tongue to High Valyrian. He reaches up and strokes her face, "I am sorry, my lady. Would that we could speak, I would declare my love before I die."

The blue woman smiles sadly, and as the light darkens in his eyes, he watches as the white blackens in hers, and she tells him, "/\/\/\/ /\/\/\/\\!"

It feels as though the stars themselves are entering his mind. Infinity fills him, and he is no longer lying on the cold field on the shores of the Trident, but staring down at a poor dying many by the name of Lewyn Martell.

He was not a he, not in this moment, he was Liselle, daughter of Aria.

Liselle smiles softly as Lewyn passes, the content smile on his face fading to the neutral face of death. Her eyes water, his had been a poet's mind, and she was sorry to see it go. It was unfortunate that he was already dying, he would have made a good companion. Now though, was not the time for mourning men she'd never know.

"Mother," She turns, and stops.

There is an army staring at her and her mother.

Aria T'Loak growls at the sight of them, and Liselle is quick to step up to her, "Mother, we are surrounded, now is not the time to start a fight."

"Oh, I don't know about that, sprout," The third member of their party grunts as he pulls himself to his feet. Urdnot Wrex chuckles as the many alien soldiers back away at the sight of them, "Might do these tin men some good, getting knocked around."

"I think they were fine knocking each other around," Aria notes, narrowed eyes glaring about, "Where the hell are we?"

"No idea, Sederis fucked with the navigation before I managed to blow 'er head off, We could be anywhere."

"Not really," Liselle argues, "The shuttle couldn't have gone very far before we woke up and it started to disintegrate like it did."

"Well wherever the hell we are we're here to stay," Aria notes, "The shuttle is scrap and by the looks of it we're on a planet that hasn't even hit their industrial revolution."

While the three talk, the armies staring at them begin to recall what they'd been doing before the crash. The further back from the interesting sight of the three alien beings, the more men went back to tearing at each other with blades.

As the battle restarted, Aria turns to her daughter, "glean anything useful from the dead man?"

"I've got their language and a rough idea of where we should be heading," is the reply.

"Where we going?"

"A place called King's Landing."

"How far is it?"

"A ways, but it's almost all I can remember from his head."

"Why? Was he thinking about it much?"

"No, he was mostly thinking of dying well and how pretty I am compared to that man over there," She points to a mangled corpse with a piece of shuttle sticking out of it. The Valyrian steel blade once in the Corbray's hand was now stabbed into the earth a few feet away.

Aria steps over to the blade and pulls it from the ground as she asks, "So, why this 'King's Landing'"

"He had family there, a niece and her children," Liselle tells her mother, "Hostages, or something similar."

"Hence why he's here, dying in a war," Aria nods.

"Look, we can talk about this a thousand ways, can we just go?" Wrex interrupts, "as much fun it'd probably be fighting with hammers and shit, I've got a piece of ship in my ass and the sooner we're away from here the sooner you can pull it out."

"Me?" Aria raises an eyebrow.

"It's your fault I'm in this mess, Queenie," Wrex tells her.

He was correct, too. She had hired him to act as her protection as she met with the leader of the Eclipse mercenary group, Jona Sederis. The madwoman had been eager to make ties with the Queen of Omega, or so she said. As it was, she was more eager to claim Omega for herself. She sprung an ambush, tried to kill them. Wrex had killed her in return, but she'd been petty in death.

Hence their new location.

"Fuck, fine, let's get out of here before these people start thinking about taking us to their caves or whatever the hell they have."

"They have castles," Liselle tells her mother.

"Dear," Aria sighs and looks at her daughter as she steals the sheath of the Valyrian Steel blade from the Corbray's corpse, "I don't care."

It was relatively easy for the three aliens to leave the battle. Any who got too close to them found that biotics were not their friend as they were sent flying away. Any archer that attempted to shoot them learnt the folly of their ways when the wasted arrows bounced of shields that they could only attribute to magic.

At the end, though, it was the deathblow struck against Rhaegar Targaryen on the other end of the battlefield that made it easy for the three to leave. The Targaryen Loyalists broke, and the Baratheon rebels fell to celebrating and looting almost as soon as their enemies fled.

 **\- The Baratheon Camp -**

It was only later, when Robert Baratheon, Ned Stark, and Jon Arryn were together again at the end of the battle, that they learnt of the three strange interlopers and the deaths of both Lewyn Martell and Lyn Corbray.

Robert, bedridden after his fight with the dragon prince, spat, "A dragon in the shape of a man, women of the Drowned god? Who comes up with these stories?"

"I don't believe they are stories," Jon tells him, "I've seen the scattered remains of the box they fell from the sky in. It is completely unknown to me."

"Alien," Ned notes, "my maester, from when I was a boy, once told me that the Wildlings were as alien to us as the children of the forest are to the Andals."

"The term fits," Jon nods, "We have three beings that do not match any known description, one of which stole the ancient blade Lady Forlorn from Lyn Corbray's corpse."

"I expect his father is making a scene about that?"

"He made several demands," Jon agreed, "But I warned him not to cross me, I remember who he sided with at the start of this war."

"Pah, we have any idea where they're going?" Robert asks.

"Those that saw them depart claim they were heading down the Kingsroad," Ned notes, "So I would assume they are traveling to King's Landing."

"Good, you can catch them when you go there yourself."

"Myself?" Ned raises an eyebrow.

"Aye, I'm too weak to go myself after that fight with the dragonspawn and Jon needs to do some politicking to make sure nobody tries to kill me in my sleep. We may be able to win Lannister over with this victory."

"His son is still a sworn member of the Kingsguard."

"He is, but at this point the Mad King's lost everything but the capital. Stannis is keeping the Tyrells busy at Storm's End, so we take King's Landing now and they'll have no choice but to tuck tail and beg, the fat fucks!"

"Tywin Lannister has already gathered his banners, it's now only a matter of why he would march to King's Landing," Jon tells Ned, "And that will either be to siege it or sally with it."

"You hope to convince him of the first," Ned nods.

"I do."

"Then I will call my banners and we will march come morning," Ned tells Robert.

"Two days, give them tomorrow to get over their hangovers!" Robert laughs.

A small smile graces Ned's lips as well, but worry for the realm and especially for his sister keep him from true joy. He nods and bows, exiting Robert's tent.

 **\- King's Landing -**

A few weeks of travel and a robbery had allowed the T'Loaks and Wrex to figure out how to best enter the city.

This was why they weren't hiding who or what they were, but instead the two Asari were dressed in fine clothes and the Krogan was sporting an axe larger than a small pony.

"Halt!"

Guards were not often an intelligent lot, Aria could attest to that, but they were very set in their ways. When they spotted the two blue women and the dragon on two feet, they didn't even bother blinking. All the first did was ask, "Business in King's Landing?"

The second added with something of a lear at the two women, "There's a war on, you know. What are you lot doing outside the city."

Aria had never had much patience for guards, even the ones that she hired. So rather than trying to explain her plans, or who she and her companions were, she got rid of them. The guards began to float, held aloft by a controlled singularity of biotic energy.

"Mother," Liselle sighs, rubbing her eyes.

"What?" Aria raises an eyebrow, and her daughter immediately quails.

Wrex, meanwhile, chuckles and pokes the guards with the butt of his stolen axe, "You fellas want down?"

"Yes!" They scream near as one.

"Gold, all of it," Wrex takes the offered bags and looks to Aria, "We leaving?"

"We are."

As they walk into the city, the guards start screaming for them to come back, to help them. There are a pair of thuds as Aria releases her singularity, followed by muffled curses. The trio make their way through the streets towards the massive keep of Maegor's Holdfast.

While they walk, Liselle tries to give her mother a lesson on the history of the city, the ruling family, all of the things that she should probably care about but really doesn't. She's here to talk to this 'Mad King' and claim some land. If it turned out he lost the war later on, she'd just show up to the next king and threaten him the same way she was going to threaten this one.

Copious amounts of violence and intimidation had always worked for her, and with her biotics and the still working tech in her possession she would be running things in a year or so. Not the country or continent, whatever the hell this Seven Kingdoms nonsense was. She wanted what she had in Omega, a kingdom to call her own that catered to the best and the worst. It'd be a hell of a lot of fun.

Eventually they reached the castle, and it wasn't a long wait before the guards found them. They hadn't tried to hide themselves, after all. It was somewhat irritating to Aria and very amusing to Liselle that it was Wrex who got the most attention from the guards.

It wasn't really shocking, though. Wrex was the most alien of the three of them. He was so far removed from looking human that it was obvious that he was unlike anything they'd ever seen. Next to Wrex, Aria and Liselle were odd but not intimidating. They could be written off, or merely compartmentalized as foreigners of some strange land. Wrex was a seven and a half foot tall battle scarred monster from the depths of myth.

At the head of the pack of guards was a man in similar garb to the one Liselle had stolen the common tongue from. Liselle's memories identified him as Jaime Lannister, and he asked, "We'd heard of the dragon man from survivors of the Battle at the Trident. I hadn't put much stock in them, though."

"Good for you," Wrex grunts, and turns to Liselle, "The hell's a dragon?"

"It's like a Harvester, but it breaths fire," Liselle tells him.

"So a mini-Thresher Maw?"

"With wings."

"Ha!" Wrex barks out a laugh and turns to the kingsguard, "I'm better than a dragon, I could kill a dragon with one arm tied behind my back! I am Wrex, of Clan Urdnot. Oldest and most powerful clans of my home Tuchanka!"

Jaime blinks in surprise, "that's quite a boast, if you aren't a dragon, what manner of beast or man are you?"

"I am Krogan, boy," Wrex tells him, "And no matter what anyone else might think, I'm no beast."

"He doesn't have the manners to be one," Aria notes, gaining Jaime's attention.

"Ah, my lady," He bows, then looks between her and Liselle, "I can say I've never seen a Mermaid before, but I am not disappointed."

Aria raises an eyebrow, then turns slightly to her daughter, who tells her, "Aquatic maidens who are known for seducing men and turning them to Piracy."

"Oh my, they have no idea how right they are," Aria chuckles, then turns to Jaime, "We prefer Asari. I am Aria T'loak, and this is my daughter Liselle."

"My king asks why you have come, Ladies T'loak and Lord Wrex," Jaime tells them, and Aria has to respect the boy for hiding his fear so well.

"I am here to demand some land, Liselle is here to see.. Who?"

"Elia Martell and her children."

"Right, them. And Wrex is here for money."

For some reason, the last is the most shocking to the Lannister. Perhaps it is just the novelty of a mythical creature asking for coin rather than land or to see a princess. Aria and Liselle's requests were almost to be expected, really. They were fantastical creatures, of course they'd have fantastical requests.

Wrex was just mundane, and Jaime's deadpan summed it up very well, "Money."

"Yup," the Krogan nods.


	2. The Mad King's Landing

**Space Dragon 2**

 **\- Before the Iron Throne -**

Wrex, Aria, and Liselle all stared at the massive throne of swords. It wasn't very impressive, at least by their standards. It looked like something out of a trashy Asari romance novel; the kind with the book of the fierce queen and a dozen eager maidens strewn about, all show and no go.

The human sitting on the throne was even more unimpressive, and Wrex didn't hesitate the mention it, "By Kalros's third sack, he looks worse than a Quarian out of his hood."

Quarians, by their own admission, have horrible hood hair. As one of the few species in the galaxy that actually possessed it, they generally hid it. As a result, whenever you managed to catch sight of a Quarian without their hood, it was always to an insane explosion of unkempt hair.

"It really is," Aria nods, then her eyes widen, "Liselle, do humans generally have claws?"

"They have nails, mother, like Asari."

"Ah, then I am equally disgusted by those."

Jaime Lannister, deciding that it would probably be a good idea to stop them from talking, glares at the King's announcer. The man, a wizened old man that had the usual half burnt look of anyone that stayed close to the King, nods and tells the three aliens, "You stand before Aerys the second, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms…"

As the man declares the King's titles, Aria asks Wrex, "So I assume you plan on working for him?"

"He looks like he can afford me," Wrex agrees.

Aria sighs, they'd had several biting conversations on the way to the capital, and the most common thing that Wrex told her whenever she tried to give an order was, "You've got less on you than I do, I see more blue than armor."

It was irritating, but it was true; she had nothing. Her kingdom and her wealth were gone or useless. Credits didn't have value to a people that still used coin currency. Backwards fucking savages, the lot of them.

"Ahem," Wrex and Aria turn their attention to Liselle, who indicates for them to look back at the throne.

The King had stood, and he we even worse standing. His clothes were moth-eaten, burnt in places, and Aria would almost swear there were a few browning stains of either shit or dried blood. On a dark red robe, it was hard to tell sometimes.

"You are… trespassers… into my kingdom," Aerys coughs out, his voice hoarse. It looks like he would have walked down the steps leading up to the throne, but a look at Wrex confirms the Krogan's size in comparison to him. Aerys chose to remain higher than the trio, standing before his throne.

"It wasn't intentional, your grace," Liselle tells him, before her mother can be snappy or Wrex could be blunt, "We were beset by bandits and through no fault of our own found ourselves upon your shores. We thought it best to announce ourselves to you, so as to avoid any confusion."

"And what manner of bandits would set upon such fine maidens and a dragon?" Aerys asks, his eyes turning hungrily to Wrex and roving over him.

"The kind with better firepower and more women," Wrex grunts, "It was three of us against Sederis and her whole band. I still got to cave her skull in, though. Good times."

"Good times indeed," Aerys chuckles, "though I am not so brutal as to kill with my hands, as you clearly enjoy. I am a dragon myself, and a dragon's weapon of choice must always be fire!"

"Hm, that's a good way to kill your enemies if you want people to fear you," Aria notes. She'd had a few thousand Vorcha immolated over the centuries, "Very useful if the people under you are less than common thugs."

"You speak as though you rule," Aerys turns to her, and she raises an eyebrow at him. He doesn't notice the eyebrow, unashamedly staring at the curves of her armor.

"I did," Aria smirks, "I am the Queen of Omega. I AM Omega, I should say."

"You _were_ Queen of Omega," Wrex reminds her, "Now we're stuck on this mudball without a way to get back."

Aria breaths in, closes her eyes, and rubs then, "Yes, thank you Wrex, for reminding me that six centuries of work has been undone by one crazy bitch with a grudge."

"Centuries?" Jaime can't help but wonder. He winces at the glare the King gives him, but then Aerys looks to Liselle for more information as well.

"Asari, and Krogan," She indicates first herself and her mother, then Wrex, "can live for more than millennia. Mother is around eight centuries old, and Wrex is even older than that."

"Let's just go with old," Wrex offers, grinning. It would have been friendly, had it not been for the fact that his teeth were talons and his mouth wider than a child's torso.

Aerys's grin is equally disconcerting, off color teeth illuminating a cracked and breaking façade of charm. He was just like Sederis, Liselle realized, with the kind of charm that people got behind and the kind of crazy that kept them behind. He was probably utterly terrifying to other humans.

The King sits back down in his throne, "Well, from one monarch to another, I bid you welcome, though you still have yet to introduce yourselves by name."

"Apologies, your grace," Liselle bows her head, "I am Lisell T'loak, and my mother is Queen Aria T'loak. With us is Wrex, of Clan Urdnot."

"Clan? Your people travel in tribes? Like the wildlings or the mountain folk of the Vale?" Aerys's face contorts into one of mild contempt.

"Don't think so, do they own entire continents?" Wrex asks, "Urdnot is a clan because it's family. We build our bonds strong and weed out the weak."

"And why are you not with them now?" Aerys asks.

"Politics," Wrex grunts.

"You don't approve of politics?" Aerys smiles, "Good, I never approved of it either, it is so much simpler when I can burn all who disobey me."

"I respect my clan, and the traditions of my people," Wrex tells him, "I could have dragged my father out of the temple and caved his carapace in with Tuchanka's sun beating down on us, but my anger made me stupid."

"You killed your own father?" Both Aerys and Jaime, and most of the other various attendants around the hall, look very uncomfortable with the notion.

"What?" Wrex asks.

"Kinslaying is a big sin here," Liselle tells him.

Wrex looks at her, then around the hall, then he shrugs, "I'm not apologizing."

"Of course you aren't," Aria rolls her eyes in irritation, then turns back to the King, "King Aerys, we would ask for your hospitality while we attempt to get back on our feet."

"Not me," Wrex shakes his head, "I'm here to see if you're hiring."

"You're a mercenary?" Jaime asks, surprised.

"Yup, what'd you think she meant when she told you I was here for money?"

"I honestly thought you wanted to sleep in the vaults."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"It's where the gold is."

"And?"

"You're a dragon."

"I'm a Krogan."

"Which, given your appearance, is just another name for dragon."

Wrex raises an eyebrow at the Lannister's leap in logic, then shrugs and turns back to Aerys, "Whatever, are you going to hire me or not?"

"Why of course I am!" Aerys cackles with glee, "It will be I, and not my foolish son, that gains a dragon into the service of the Targaryens for the first time in more than a century!"

"Great, my going rate is a thousand credits a day," Wrex tells the king, then turns to Liselle, "What's that in their fancy gold coins?"

"Why are you asking me?" Liselle asks, "I got language and history, I don't think Lewyn cared much for finance."

"Lewyn Martell?" Jaime prompts, interrupting again.

"Ser Jaime, if you interrupt my negotiations once more I will have your tongue removed," Aerys notes.

The Kingsguard stiffens, then turns his head slowly to the King and bows it.

Aria raises an eyebrow, very carefully making a mental note to talk to the blonde human in the near future. She might be able to secure a higher position than she thought she'd manage if she played these people against each other.

Her daughter, meanwhile, replies, "Yes, Lewyn, I had to extract information on the Seven Kingdoms from him as he was dying. I might have taken more than I meant, because I'm itching to meet his niece and her children."

"And how did you extract that information?" A new voice asks, a well-dressed and mildly plump man without any hair.

"I melded our minds," Liselle tells him, "It's something we can do."

"And is he then trapped within your mind?"

"No, well, maybe a sliver of his thoughts, but he did die," Liselle tells him.

"And how did he die?"

"He got killed in a big battle," Aria notes, then tabs the sword at her waist, "fighting the human that had this."

"That is the Valyrian Steel sword Lady Forlorn," The man notes, "How did you come to claim it?"

"Its previous owner was dead and I needed a weapon," Aria notes, "I lost my gun in the fight that stranded us here."

"Gun?"

"Varys, enough," Aerys interrupts, "You can speak with her grace later. For now, Ser Jaime, escort them to the Martell whore? I wish to discuss finance with my dragon. The rest of you, OUT!"

 **\- The Kingsroad -**

"Any sign of them?" Ned Stark asks his returning outrider.

He'd sent them further than he had planned, wanting to catch up with the three strange interlopers from the battle at the Trident. When they'd returned with no word of them, he sent them further and further still. They'd gone within sight of King's Landing, stupidly enough.

"I spoke with some of the small folk, my lord," The rider tells him, "They entered the city earlier today."

"Damn," Ned sighed, he'd marched his men fast, but they were an army and set off two days after the three had departed from the battlefield. He should have known that they would be faster than his forces, and sent his riders out before they'd even set to marching.

Now it was too late, and the interlopers were in the enemy camp. Hopefully the Mad King would not treat them as he did his subjects, for if he did they were not long for this world. As it was, the siege would hopefully be quick, and he would be able to travel further south, now he had a destination thanks to a few words with Ser Barristan. He would not lose his sister as he had his father and brother.

Turning his attention to the rider, he asks, "Is there any other news?"

"I'm not sure, my lord," The rider replies, "I took the main road, so I was quickest there and back, the other lads were going through and round the woods, they'll be late getting back."

"Hopefully not too l-"

"My lord!"

Ned turns his eyes and spots one of the other riders. He exchanges a look with the first to return and the man shrugs, so he diverts his full attention to the new man, "Yes?"

"My lord, the Lannister forces are marching!" The rider tells him, stopping after he spills the words out to catch his breath.

"What? Where are they?" Ned demands.

"On the Gold Road, my lord," He tells his liege."

Ned curses, then looks to each rider and tells them, "Go to Lord Umber and Lord Bolton, we need to march as soon as we can."

 **\- The Gold Road -**

The Lannister host traveled fast, and they had been doing so for weeks. As soon as Tywin had heard of Rhaegar's death at Robert Baratheon's hands, he had ordered his Banners to march. There would be no use in hesitating now.

Once, he would have marched for Aerys. The man had been a friend, a good one. But time, jealousy, and petty revenges had eroded their relationship until it had come to this point. Even if Rhaegar had won and the kingdom secured for the Targeryens, Tywin would never have marched for him. Now, with the favored son dead and all hope lost for their cause, the Lannisters would march against them.

Tywin regretted this, as he did every harsh decision he had to make. He regretted destroying the houses of Reyne and Tarbeck, the unending loathing he had for his second son, the terrible things he did to his father's mistress, and all the other petty cruelties that he had to perpetrate because Tytos Lannister had not been strong enough to do them himself.

But there was no helping it; he needed to prove the Lannister's loyalty to the new dynasty. It would most likely be Robert Baratheon, unless he succumbed to the wounds he sustained killing Rhaegar. If it was not him, they would most likely name Eddard Stark to the position. The Northman didn't have much claim to the Iron Throne, but he was a solid commander and had earned the respect of every lord he met.

Tywin had met him once, and would even say he respected the man. There was no doubt he was a thundering fool, corrupted with the Valemen's propensity to take honor to absurd extremes. The boy's father had been a good politician, working to expand the North's influence. He'd even contacted Tywin, before his unfortunate demise, to ask after mining practices and whether they could share in the untapped bounty of the North.

A pity Aerys was truly so mad as to murder him. Needs must, however, and soon his mad friend would be dead, his son would be returned to him, and he could enter negotiations with the new King from a position of strength.

 **\- The Maidenvault of the Red Keep, King's Landing -**

"Your daughter seems very taken with the children," Aria turns her head, and raises an eyebrow at the bald man.

He smiles thinly at her and tells her, "Apologies, your grace, the King mentioned my name but we have not been formally introduced. I am Varys."

"You already know who I am," Aria notes.

"I do," He agrees, folding his arms into the sleeves of his robe as they watch Liselle play with Elia Martell's children. The young Rhenys seemed enthralled with the blue woman, sitting in her lap and chatting away.

Aria's eyes move between her daughter and the Princess's family, then they return to Varys, "You wanted to speak with me?"

"Indeed, I was hoping I could ask you if you knew the outcome of the battle at the Trident."

"Where we arrived?"

"The very same."

"It looked like your side was losing," Aria tells him, "It's probably going to lose."

"Indeed, I feel our good King's time is limited, and we must flee the capital if we are to survive."

"Why haven't you, then?"

"I am many things, your grace, and above all I am loyal to my king."

Aria smirks, "But he isn't your king, is he?"

Varys raises a curious eyebrow, "Whatever do you mean?"

"That bedraggled sack of bones isn't worth your loyalty, or anyone else's."

"He is the King, by right of birth."

Aria smirks, "So that's how you people do it."

"Things are done differently in your kingdom?"

"I took my kingdom," Aria tells him, "I'm called the Pirate Queen for a reason. And elsewhere in the galaxy things are very differently."

"That is a word you keep saying, 'galaxy,' I would love to know what it means," Varys notes, then moves away, "But that is a subject for later. It seems we must be wary of you, your grace, for you see things many refuse to see. If Aerys is not my king, who is?"

"The kid," Aria nods to Elia Martell, and the babe in her hands, "I know your sort, I am your sort. You want to shape that kid into something useful, a good king. Better than the one you've got now."

Varys sighs, and nods, "I had hoped that Rhaegar would be a good king, but if what you say about the Battle of the Trident is true, he is most likely dead, and his son is our best hope."

"So why are you telling me this?"

"You have done much to deduce all I have said already."

"And you could easily have lied to me. You want something from me."

Varys now raises both eyebrows at her, and she rolls her eyes.

"Don't fuck with me, Varys," She tells him, "It's always been my one rule. Do not fuck with Aria T'loak."

"If I were trying to do so, no doubt you would come up with an unpleasant way to torture me."

"I'd have just killed you," Aria tells him, "Torture is useless if you're an Asari."

"Ah, yes, your daughter's 'mind meld' with Prince Lewyn," Varys turns his eyes back to Liselle and the royal family, "Truth and justice must come very easy to your people."

"Truth does, justice is just an idea Matriarchs try to shove down our throats," Aria frowns.

"Then let us get to the truth of the matter," Varys turns fully to her, "I ask you to smuggle the royal family to Dragonstone, in return you will be granted any privilege Queen Rhaella can give you."

"And where is she?"

"She is already at Dragonstone, with her and Aerys's remaining child, Viserys."

"Why get them out of King's Landing, isn't it safer here?"

"Aerys would have them burnt alive on a whim," Varys tells her.

"Kill him, then."

"I have neither the skill with arms nor the access to poisons to do so."

"Give Wrex a week, he'll do it for free," Aria offers.

Varys smiles lightly at that, "Would that I could, but while I have not heard from the Trident, I have heard from my spies elsewhere, and Tywin Lannister is on the march to King's Landing. He should arrive in but a few days."

"And he is?"

"A most ruthless man, and one constantly harangued by the king. His son acts in the Kingsguard, to the man's eternal ire."

"So no love lost and a war clearly in the oppositions favor, you think he's going to sack the city."

"An excellent deduction," Varys complements her.

She smirks, "It's what I would do."

"Then it seems time is of the essence."

"Probably," She agrees, "Make the arrangements and we'll be on your ship."

Varys turns and walks away, missing the sight of her smirk turning into a full grin. It would be such fun being in a position to claim a place at the top of the hierarchy once more.


	3. Threats without Power

**Space Dragon 3**

 **\- Before the Iron Throne -**

"Your grace," Wrex turns his attention away from the large axe the King had seen fit to give him to look at a group of men approaching. The speaker looked about the same age as the King, at least by the krogan's estimation, "Word by raven, Lord Lannister marches to your aid!"

"My thanks, Pycelle," the king chuckles, "So Tywin has finally decided to throw his lot in with the true king! I knew my old friend wouldn't fail me."

Wrex has to stop himself from snorting, and it looks like Jaime Lannister is equally as doubtful about the fact that they were definitely going to win. From what the Battlemaster had seen, the loyalists were going to be stomped like a dying varren.

"I don't know, your grace," This was said by a human without hair, the first Wrex had seen. They usually had the hair either on their heads or faces, sometimes even both. This man had neither, and he gave the Krogan a curious look before turning to Aerys and continuing, "The enmity between your grace and Lord Tywin is well known, as are the imagined slights he feels you have made to him."

"Slights? He think my naming his son to my Kingsguard a slight?" The Mad King snorts, "That was an insult, Varys! But Tywin and I have shared many japed together, and a great rivalry. Pycelle, what does his raven say?"

"He is to march through the Lion Gate sometime in the early morning, your grace," Pycelle tells the king, "If the gates are open. Lord Stark marches as well, near matching his speed. "

"Mm, I would hate to leave my friend to the wolves," Aerys muses, then he turns to Wrex, "What do you think, Urdnot Wrex?"

Wrex raises an eye ridge. He snorts, "I say let 'em in. He proves an ally, good. He proves an enemy, he's closer to kill."

Aerys grins widely, "An excellent idea, my friend! Pycelle, send word that the gates are to be opened, but make sure they are to do so only if Tywin is at the head of his armies. Inform Lord Lannister that I expect him to join me in the throne room to eke out a strategy for the city's defense."

Pycelle nods, then retreats through a side door. Wrex watched the human retreat; sure that something was up but not adept at reading the new species yet. He'd figure it out, eventually.

"You are dismissed, Varys," Aerys tells the balding mad, who quickly leaves. Only one man remains, decked in robes with a wolfish grin as evil as the king's. The monarch asks this last man, "Is everything in place, Rossart?"

"Indeed, your grace," The man chuckles, "The jars are set, and my greatest alchemists are in place."

Wrex looks to Jaime for some explanation, and his eyes narrow at the expression on the human's face. They were close enough to asari that Wrex could tell expressions, if not age, and Jaime Lannister looked very upset; dismayed, even.

Who the hell was this "Rossart," that he could cause stress in the usually cocksure Lannister. Wrex had known the kid maybe four hours at this point; and he was sure the boy was an arrogant jackass every hour of the day.

"Alright, the hell's going on now?" He grumbles, drawing the eyes of all three humans to himself. He looks between each, waiting for an explanation. When none arrives, he grumbles again and points at Rossart, "Who, by Kalros's shiny shits, are you?"

"I am Rossart, Hand of the King."

"And?"

"I am Grand Maester of the Alchemist's Guild."

"And?"

"I serve King Aerys faithfully by providing him with the crown's Wildfire!"

"The fuck is wildfire?"

"The key to my family's power," Aerys snaps, irritated with the krogan for the first time, "We no longer have our Dragons, so we must make due. Wildfire is the secret of my family and the Alchemists, and I must use it to rise and become a true dragon!"

Wrex blinks, looks at Jaime and Rossart, and then back to the king. Then he asks, "So, what, you're gonna set yourself on fire?"

"Myself, and this entire wretched city!" Aerys cackles, wringing his clawed hands together, though Wrex notes once more that the claws exist because of poor hygiene than a predatory ancestry like a krogan or turian's.

"Great, long as I'm not here when you do, I don't give a vorcha's ass."

Wrex ignores the horrified look that briefing passes across Jaime's face along with the glee on Aerys's face. Instead he turns his attention back to the axe in his hands, working to get familiar with the primitive weapon. His own weapon, a treasured Claymore shotgun, had taken a beating in the crash and he wasn't going to risk it exploding in his hands until he really needed to use it.

 **\- The Royal Suites -**

Liselle ran her hand along the soft black fur of the princess's cat, smiling at the child. They had played for a while, but now the child was more curious. So here they were, sitting cross-legged across from each other, passing Baelor the cat between them as the asari answered questions.

They'd already gone over most species in the galaxy, and Liselle had taken quite a lot of time describing the species that the girl would never meet. She would learn all about asari and Krogan in the years to come, after all. Though some details on the asari did crop up, like the fact that Liselle would never have any brothers.

"But your mommy is old!" Rhaenys exclaims, surprised, "My mommy isn't even as old as my poppa, but she already has me and Eggy."

"Yes, but asari live long lives," Liselle tells her, "So if we had as many children as your mother or your grandma have tried to have, the galaxy would be even more overfull of us than it already is."

"Why's that bad?"

"It isn't, but we just don't want to have as many children."

"Why not?"

Liselle smiles at the child and lifts up the black cat in her hands, "This is a cat, and cats have many children when their women give birth."

"As many as doggies do," Rhaenys nods.

"Exactly, and they have so many pretty little babies because they don't live as long as you humans. They need to make sure as many kittens or puppies live as possible, so they make as many as they can."

Rhaenys tilts her head, still waiting for things to make sense.

"All those little kitties grow up and have kittens of their own, don't they?"

The little girl nods.

"A cat can have three generations of descendants before a human's hair goes grey," Liselle tells her, "Humans have fewer children than cats and dogs because they live longer than cats and dogs."

"Okay, but why do you not have as many babies as humans?" Rhaenys giggles, wondering why the woman doesn't address herself as a human. Though Liselle looked strange, the little girl hadn't quite realized just how alien the strange looking woman was.

"To me and my mother, Rhaenys, you would be the kitty," Liselle tells her.

The child furrows her brow at that, trying to think of what that might mean. It takes a while, but then she realizes something. She smiles widely and pounces onto Liselle. The asari laughs, upended, and sprawls out onto the floor.

Rhaenys sits on her lap, then takes Baelor from her, "If I'm a kitty, you can pet me, and I'll pet Baelor!"

Liselle laughs, and strokes the child's hair.

Her eyes drift over to her mother and Rhaenys's own, talking quietly on the balcony.

"It's that bad, is it?" Aria asks, arms resting on the railing as she gazes out into the shit smelling city.

Ellia hums a confirmation, "If Rhaegar's army really is gone, then all we have are the Tyrells and the Lannisters."

"You don't sound very enthusiastic," the former queen notes.

"I'm not," the princess snorts, "my family and the Tyrells have been in conflict for centuries and Tywin Lannister hates the King. If me and my children are to survive this fight, we need to flee."

"But you can't, can you?"

"No, we are hostages to maintain Dorne's participation in the war," Ellia sighs, "Aerys is a mad man, but his strategists knew what they were doing."

"Do they still?" Aria muses. She turns her head to look at Ellia and asks, "Do the Targaryens have another stronghold?"

"Dragonstone," Ellia tells her.

"Defensible?"

"It's a fortress on a cliff covered island."

"Is that a yes or a no?" Aria asks, "I spent six hundred years ruling a rock in space, not a seaside resort."

"Yes," Ellia tells her, hiding her unease at the news of her companion's age.

"Good," Aria smiles. She turns around, and watches as her daughter plays with Ellia's own, "My daughter likes yours."

Ellia looks as well, and a smile teases across her lips, "She does, and Rhaenys likes her."

"You're very lucky she does," Aria tells her, drawing Ellia's eyes to her, "If it were only the two of us, I would leave now and take your island fortress as my own."

"And now?"

"Now I'm going to have to take you with me while I do it," She is told, and Aria smirks, "Aria T'Loak is the queen, girl, never think otherwise."

 **\- The Lannister Camp -**

Sitting alone in his tent, Tywin Lannister thought of the events that would play out the next day. Pycelle had sent a raven, telling him how to ensure the gates would remain open. It was very useful, indulging disgusting layabouts like him.

The maester had also provided him with useful, actionable intelligence on the three alien beings that had interrupted the battle at the Trident. Two women and a large male creature, they called themselves "asari" and "krogan." The women were apparently exiled royals, a Queen and her daughter. The "krogan" was some kind of intelligent dragon, a mercenary that was beholden to the highest bidder.

Both would be very easy to deal with, if they survived the slaughter to come. The Queen he could probably convince Robert Baratheon to give the Stepstones. The damned islands had been a hive of pirates for a long time, and having a permanent ruler would give them some stability while the realm rebuilt. Once the Free Cities inevitably destroyed her, there would be nothing to worry about after that. The mercenary would just be offered a substantial amount of gold, Tywin had far more than Aerys could ever hope to bring without selling the realm.

There is a whisper of cloth as his brother Kevan enters the chamber. They shared a nod, and Kevan poured them both some wine, "So, are you sure we are to do this?"

"I am."

"May the gods have mercy on our souls."

"Don't be so dramatic, Kevan," Tywin grunts, taking a sip of his wine, "The time of the Targaryens comes to an end tomorrow. Aerys will die, and the realm will live on."

"It is not him I pray for."

"You speak of the Princess and her children?" Tywin asks.

"I do."

"The children need to die," The Lord of Casterly Rock tells his brother, "Alive, they are a threat to the stability of Robert Baratheon's rule and a rallying point for any remaining loyalists."

"And Ellia?" they had both met the Princess, both liked the girl when they had.

"I've ordered that only the children are to be killed."

"But you gave the orders to Clegane and Lorch," Kevan objects.

"They are the only two I do not believe would hesitate."

"Of course they won't, they are monsters!"

Tywin looks harshly at his brother, and the man forces himself to calm down.

"Please, brother, don't do this."

"It has to be done," Tywin tells him.

Kevan stands, takes a long gulp of his wine, and exits the wine after setting the empty cup on the ground. Tywin watches his brother leave, then takes a contemplative sip of his own wine. He knew, in his heart, that he would regret the next day for the rest of his life.

His dear Johanna, dead ten years now, had been dear friends with Ellia's mother and would hate him for the crimes he was about to commit against the girl.

 **\- The Stark Camp -**

Ned Stark watched the stars overhead, winding their way through infinity. He imagined the sky had been the same when his father last looked at it, when his brother threw a dismissive glance up. Rickard had been a thinker, but Brandon had been hardy. Brandon had been foolish, brave, and had gotten himself killed acting out both traits.

He'd gotten their father killed the same way.

Ned loved his brother, he truly did, but he also hated the idiot. If Brandon had just thought, even for a second, he would have seen he was making a mistake. He could have asked father for direction, advice… something. Father would have advised him not to be foolish.

If only Brandon had thought. But now he had to find Lyanna alone, with Benjen back in Winterfell and the Northern Host at his back. He had to march on the den of vipers that had slain his father and his brother. He had to treat with Tywin Lannister, a man known for his fearsome reputation.

The raven had come yesterday, when it had become clear that the two armies would reach King's Landing at almost the same time. The note inside had been simple, a declaration of loyalty from Lord Lannister to the Baratheon cause. Tywin also wrote that he planned on taking the city from within, which meant that he had to reach it first if he was to succeed.

Now the question was whether or not he should believe the letter, and the man who wrote it. If he arrived with the Lannister forces, Tywin would join his host to theirs. But if he allowed the Lannisters to spring their trap, the city could be won with far less bloodshed for his men. He did not want to lose the North any more men than he already had. He had seen friends fall, he did not wish to see any more.

If victory could be achieved by letting the lions feast on the dragons, it had to be so.

Decision made, he returns to his command tent. Inside were all of his commanders, ready to take his orders and act upon them. He looked first at Roose Bolton, "Lord Bolton, the capital will be embroiled in battle when we reach it tomorrow. The Lannisters have declared for our side, so they will be springing a trap on the dragons from within the city walls. When the gates crash down, I leave it to you and your forces to enter the city and maintain as much order as you can. No raping, no murdering, but if they draw steel they are an enemy."

"Of course, my lord."

"Greatjon," Ned turns his eyes to the Umber lord, who shifts forward eagerly, "You are going to turn your forces further south. Lords Manderly, Glover, and Forrester will accompany you with their hosts. Storm's End is held by the Tyrells, and they've been growing lazy these last months. Teach them the error of their indulgence."

Greatjon and the other three lords laugh, excited for a new battle in which to prove themselves.

"Howland," turning to the Crannogman, Ned tells him, "Your people will get mine into the Red Keep. Once we have the Targaryens in hand, the battle is won."

Lord Reed nods, accepting the assignment quietly.

Eddard looks around the table, "the rest of you will move to other gates and enter the city as you can. Once inside, follow Lord Bolton's lead and keep order. The Lannisters have promised us the city, but they never promised it in good condition, it's our job to make sure it's in tact before Robert gets here."

 **\- Before the Iron Throne -**

"You want to take from me the key to Dorne?" Aerys asks.

Aria frowns at the distasteful human, "What use is Dorne? My daughter took the mind of your Dornish commander. He's dead, his army's dead, and they don't have the men gathered to raise another. You could always beg them to send stragglers, but that won't be much use. The best they'll be now is a place to retreat, and you need them willing to do that."

"And they aren't willing now?" Aerys laughs, "I hold Doran Martell's sister!"

"You do, and when you go there, how grateful do you think they'll be if they learn you've deliberately put her in harm's way?" Aria asks.

"It won't matter!" the Mad King cackles, "I will never leave my throne, and none will lift me from it!"

Aria raises an eyebrow, "So you alienate your allies, after you've already started a revolt?"

"I started this rebellion? No! It was that fool, Arryn, that saw fit to declare war!"

"After you demanded his foster son's head."

"I had already collected two, I needed the whole set," Aerys waves a hand dismissively.

The former queen of Omega closes her eyes and barely restrains herself from rubbing them.

"I will not be letting you take my dear daughter and her children," Aery simpers, "And if you try to take them I will have you burnt alive!"

"Oh boy," Wrex grunts, and he grabs Jaime's shoulder before the human guard can make any moves. The Lannister knight looks up at him, confused, and the krogan notes, "You don't wanna get in the middle of this."

Aria thrusts her hand forward, and Aerys gives a squawk of surprise as he is torn from the Iron Throne. Wreathed in blue energy, he soars through the air until he is caught by the enraged asari. The wreath of blue energy binds them as she takes the human by the throat, squeezing. He croaks in terror, but cannot object, the hold on his neck too tight.

"Listen well, human," Aria growls, "I am Aria T'Loak. I do not take threats, orders, commands, or even polite suggestions. I give them. You don't threaten to kill me, you try and fail. A threat is made by somebody who doesn't have the power to act. I have the power, even now."

Aerys tries to claw at the hand on his neck, but the barrier of biotic energy does not afford him a good hold. The grip tightens, and he stills.

"I will be taking Ellia Martell and her children," She tells him, then loosens her grip, "Say yes."

"Why?" Aerys asks instead, "Why do you care about them?"

"My daughter cares about them," Aria corrects, "And I care about my daughter. I wouldn't give a turian's honor about them if she didn't."

"Why not stay, then?" He asks.

"Because there are casualties in every war, and my daughter would be sad if her new playthings her among them," Aria tells him, "say yes."

"Yes! Damn you," Aria drops him to the ground and he glares up at her with more impotent hate than anyone she'd ever care to remember, "You will pay for this, woman. You will die one day, mark my words."

Aria snorts, and she flicks her hand to the side. Aerys yelps again as he is yanked backwards, then screams as he lands painfully on the Iron Throne.

"I told you, Aerys," She notes as she turns and walks out the doors, "Threats are for those without power."


	4. Slaughter in the City

**Space Dragon 4**

How should a king respond to a direct threat to his power?

If you're Aerys Targaryen, you stew silently as your Hand tries to console you. The Hand in question, his favored pyromancer Rossart, was assuring him that everything was going according to plan with their caches of Wildfire. The jars had been placed and they were ready to be detonated by Rossart's most ardent disciples.

The only two within the throne room on this early hour of the day were the King and the Alchemist, not counting Aerys's ever present shadows of course. They did throw strong shadows, as well, stretching across the throne room as the sun rose against the windows and threw the king and his hand in darkness. Urdnot Wrex and Jaime Lannister would never betray their King, Aerys convinced himself.

Not like the Martell bitch and those blue whores that were even now being escorted to the sea. Aria T'Loak had made a true enemy, when she had struck the king. She and her daughter would not survive long once she was on the ship to Dragonstone, _Balerion_. Aerys had given orders that the ship be manned with his most grizzled seamen, the worst men his Master of Ships could provide.

Not in the ways of sailing, of course, but in character. The deposed Queen would be raped to death if all went according to plan. The same fate would most likely befall Elia, Liselle, and Rhaenys as well; but a slight must be answered.

"Are they on their ship, yet?" He snaps at Rossart, now eager to know they were suffering.

The alchemist starts, frowns and looks to Jaime and Wrex for context. He had not been present when Aria had threatened him and it was the captain of the city guard Jaime had ordered to escort the women and children to the docks.

"They should be there soon," Jaime tells the king, and the Targaryen monarch spins to glare at him. He takes a breath, "Captain Hollard will return once they are on the ship."

"Very well," Aerys turns back to Rossart and asks, "What of Tywin's forces?"

"They will reach the city well before the Stark army," Rossart tells his master, "We have but an hour to wait before he is in this very chamber with us."

"Excellent, and then we can begin to strike back against our foes!" Aerys breaks into a joyful cackle, heedless of the disgusted looks from both Wrex and Jaime.

The two guards, both krogan and human, roll their eyes in irritation at the mad king's antics. Jaime had grown accustomed to the eccentricities of the monarch and was merely counting the days until the rebellion claimed victory. It wouldn't be pretty and he'd probably die doing his duty, but a dead Aerys was better for the realm as a whole. Wrex had dealt with madmen in power before, mostly Batarians; and he wasn't sure how much he liked working for the strange human.

The warlord was thinking of a few of the worse jobs he'd had in his time as a mercenary. They'd been anywhere from horrible to hilarious, and he got the feeling that this one would be more the first than the second. If push came to shove, though, he could make a tactical retreat and call this adventure a win. He'd already claimed a large sack of gold as a hiring bonus and it didn't look like the second class humans had ever seen anything shiny before. He'd be able to live better than the king he was working for if he played things right.

"So what's your father like?" He asks Jaime.

The kingsguard turns to look at him, raising an eyebrow, "Why do you ask?"

"Well I doubt hairy over there would pay to make your armor outa gold," Wrex looks down at the ornamental armor that Jaime was wearing.

Jaime looks down as well, and sighs. Wrex was very right, as the sheer amount of golden decoration on his armor was enough to blind a man on a sunny day, "He's the Lion of Lannister."

Wrex blinks at him.

"The Lord of Casterly Rock."

Wrex raises an eyebrow.

"Paramount of the West."

Wrex's head tilts down so he can blink very slowly at Jaime.

The Lannister sighs, "He and my family own most of the gold mines in the kingdom."

"Ah," Wrex nods, "Why the hell didn't you just say that?"

"I'd thought I had."

"I've been on this planet three weeks, kid."

"Right," Jaime sighs, "I often forget, you so often claim to know everything."

"I know everything about killing, boy," The krogan grunts, "and don't you ever forget that."

"Then why didn't you protect the king when your companion assaulted him?" Jaime asks, then adds, "Why did you stop me from protecting him?"

"Because I'm smart enough not to fuck with an Asari like Aria."

"Her magic was formidable, yes, but she can't be that hard to kill!"

"Magic?" Wrex blinks, "Nah, that was biotics. No such thing as magic, kid."

"I believe my point still stands, Ser Wrex."

"Battlemaster."

"What?"

"Or Warlord," Wrex corrects him, "Sers are what you people call yourselves. Krogan are Battlemasters and Warlords. I'm both."

"So like a lord and a knight in one?"

"Probably," Wrex nods.

"Then my point still stands, Warlord Wrex," Jaime pats the sword at his side, "Despite her biotics, I'm sure Queen Aria would have been just as easy to kill as anyone else."

"It's not just her biotics that make Aria a fucking nightmare to fight," Wrex tells Jaime knowledgeably, "She knows her way around just about every weapon somebody's tried to kill her with."

"And how often have people tried to kill her?" Jaime leans back.

"I've been hired to try at least a dozen times over the centuries," Wrex muses, "plus there're the idiots that think they can take over Omega, the regular nuts, the Batarians, and whatever Merc group is most powerful at any time."

"She seemed remarkably at ease with you," Jaime notes, not sure how much he'd be able to associate with somebody that tried to kill him. Of the people that had, he would have gladly stuck a knife in them if they'd somehow come back from the dead long enough for him to see them.

"Nobody's paid me to kill her in a few centuries," Wrex shrugs, "Plus she always outbids them."

"You tell her you've been hired to kill her?"

Wrex gives a grunt in the affirmative.

"If only everyone were so courteous," Jaime rolls his eyes.

 **\- The Lion Gate -**

Gregor Clegane was far from courteous. It would be overly generous to say he was good, or at least a lie by omission. It was definitely a blatant falsehood if you said he was nice. Gregor, by the most liberal estimates, had the personality of a particularly ornery honey badger. This was unfortunate, because he had the size of a large bear.

This the guards at the gate were learning very much to their detriment as he easily reduced their number down to one. His massive greatsword, held with the ease a normal man would bear a bastard sword, cleaved through men that had expected to meet a friend.

Blood splashed across the cobblestones and peasants fled at the start of the carnage, and now the man known as the Mountain that Rides was free to call in the rest of the Lannister Bannermen. Tywin Lannister, standing at a far enough distance not to be splashed, watches dispassionately as his men begin their deadly work.

His brother, the more honorable Kevan Lannister, frowns at the sight before them. He did not know what history would say of his House after this bloody coupe, but it would not be kind to this moment. His brother had been careful to avoid giving any truly dark orders while in his presence, but he had not been included in several key meetings. There would be many dark deeds on this day.

It would fall to him, in all likelihood, to police their men and stop the worst of the raping and the murdering. Already he could hear screams of terror and pain spreading throughout the city. He tells his brother as much.

The elder Lannister regards him with the same measure he did only a few others. It was a look reserved for family, the look that said he supported your decision but could not truly comprehend it. It was the same look he had given Gerion before their brother had vanished into the Doom of Valyria, and even one he'd seen his brother give to their sister after she'd chosen to remain with her Frey husband.

"Take care of the peasants, Kevan," Tywin tells him, "Make sure that we are remembered as liberators, rather than raiders."

Kevan is quick to bow his head in agreement, and he calls for his own men to join him. He marches into the city and quickly begins to issue orders, "We are to keep the Mountain's men from destroying the reputation of the Westerlands, men."

"How're we to do that, M'lord?" One of his more intelligent officers asks, stepping up beside him.

"Stop the raping," Kevan tells the man, then looks to the rest of his men, "It's expected that some valuables will go missing, but if a girl of my nieces age is violated I will find the man and castrate him myself!"

The men all give crisp salutes, then they break away in teams of three or more. He'd always maintained a disciplined personal assortment of Lannister men, so he had enough to try and keep the peace in the Lannister controlled portions of the city. Hopefully his men would be able to keep the peace while Lord Leo Lefford secured the northern gates for the Stark army to march through.

 **\- The Docks -**

"What's happening?" Elia asks, peering into the distant landscape of the city as screams start to reach them from under the hood she'd donned to hide her identity.

"Sounds like the city is under attack," Aria shrugs, and pulls the woman along as she adjusts her own hood, "It seems we're leaving at the right time."

"The Starks are here already?" Elia wonders, adjusting Aegon in her grip, "Varys said they would reach the city after the Lannisters."

"Maybe the Lannisters turned on the King," Liselle offers. Rhaenys was in her hands, looking fearfully into the depths of the city, "I know he's been antagonizing Lord Tywin for years."

"Yes, but to turn so late…." Elia drifts off, and sighs, "Yes, it would make some sense. Lord Tywin has always been a practical man."

"Lord Tywin being…?" Aria asks, stopping as they reach the docks. Her eyes rove across the bay, looking for the ship Varys had told them to take, the _Silence_. It was captained by an apparently unpleasant lad by the name of Euron Greyjoy, but the gold offered was going to be more than enough to give them safe passage to some degree.

He also encouraged her to throw him overboard, if she needed to.

"Ho there!"

Their eyes turn and catch sight of a handsome young human standing on the railing of a ship. The ship, a heavily modified ironborn longboat, was moored at the start of the dock and the man took full advantage of that fact, swinging to the ground to greet them.

"Ladies!" He smiles wolfishly at them, "I am Euron Greyjoy, captain of the _Silence._ The fat Eunuch told me I was going to be taking all of you to Dragonstone!"

"You're right about that," Aria nods, and she pulls off her hood to give the man a proper assessment, "I hear you're being paid very well. Was Varys stupid enough to pay you before we left?"

"Afraid he was," Euron laughs, and the look in his eyes changes as his eyes catch the blue of her skin and the tentacles that took the place of her hair, "By the gods, you're a mermaid!"

"I am," Aria tells him, "We go by Asari."

"We?"

Liselle pulls off her own hood, and calling upon the knowledge she'd gained from Lewyn notes, "Greyjoys aren't known as ferrymen."

"Ah, well, I was here to pick the city clean while the armies fought; but I suspected the reward for this would be more than just gold," Euron notes, then waves at the two Asari, "And here I am, the first Ironborn to lay eyes on an emissary of the Drowned God in a thousand years or more!"

Elia eyes the Greyjoy warily, but she did know Euron to some extent. Pyke had been one of the many stops her family had taken when her mother had been trying to find her and her brother suitable matches. Euron had been intense, but pleasant on the surface.

"Captain!" All eyes turn to the ship and a man stands atop the railing where Euron had made his own entrance, "Trouble approaches!"

Euron snorts, "The Starks are at the other end of the city!"

"Not the Starks, Cap'n, it's the crew of the _Balerion!_ " The man points, and eyes turn further down the docks.

A large group of men were climbing off of a menacing black ship, bearing an assortment of weaponry. Euron raises an eyebrow, then looks to Aria and her companions to see if they have some form of explanation.

"Aerys gave us that ship," Elia tells him.

Euron snorts again, "He must not like you very much then, princess. I've sailed with a man or ten of them."

"Unpleasant?" Aria asks.

"They give pirates a bad name," Euron jests, and he slips a deadly looking axe from the loop on his belt.

Aria smiles and twitches her fingers, "My kind of people, then."

The Greyjoy looks over to her and his eyebrows jerk up as he watches purple light play in her palm. He jumps back when she lashes out, and his eyes follow the small ball of light that flies from her hand. It soars through the air, unnaturally straight, and strikes the first of the charging men in the chest.

What happens to him would be difficult to describe, had he not once see lightning strike a man. Lines of power lash from the ball of light, twisting around the man and squeezing. Euron winces as the man screams in pain, the horrific light tearing the flesh from his bones as it digs its way through him.

Eventually the ball enters the man's chest, to the horror of his fellows. The dead man starts to fall, but before he can reach the ground he erupts. In an explosion of gore, pieces of the man fly from the ball of light and at his companions.

A hand smacks one man, a leg another, and one unfortunate sap takes the castrated unmentionables right to the face.

"Oh, mother," Liselle sighs, and the Greyjoy's eyes turn to watch her step up to her mother and pull the sword on the elder Asari's blade from its scabbard at her waist. Aria barely turns her gaze from the carnage she has wrought to raise an eyebrow at her mother.

"I've the experience of one of the best swordsmen in the land," Liselle reminds her as the Valyrian Steel shines in reflection of the power now wafting off of both women.

The young maiden marches towards the now hesitant men, and uses their reluctance to full advantage. She thrusts her hand forward, expelling a singularity at them. It drifts lazily at them, but it is enough like the warp that had destroyed their companion to force a retreat. Liselle pushed the biotic ball of energy in front of her, and then darts out from around it to rush at the pirates.

A slice of her blade cleaves the shaft of a spear in half, and the man who had tried to use it to block stares dumbly at it. He fails to react to the blade that passes through his throat after that in time to do anything but fall to the ground dead.

The blade is then used to catch an axe aimed at Liselle's face, and the men begin to circle her. They fail, in their unfortunate ignorance, to do anything more than try to step around the singularity as Liselle had. She detonates it when they step too close. Gravity fails them, and their feet cannot find purchase on the ground.

Cries of confusion fill the air as three men are lifted up and remain there. They are the lucky ones, spared the sudden lightning strikes of Liselle's sword. One man drops without his head, another screams in pain as his hand is removed, and two gurgle and try to stem the tide of blood as it spurts from their throats.

Euron laughs at the sight of the asari slaughtering the enemy crew, and decides he better join the fight. It would not look good if she were to take a knife in the back, which she doubtless would considering the men she faced. He charges forward, his axe swinging through the air.

There is a satisfying thunk as he buries it into the spine of an unwary adversary. Kicking the crippled man away, Euron turns to grab the hand of a man swinging a sword at him, then kicks the fool in the groin and cleaves his head in two.

Aria, satisfied that things were being settled, crosses her arms and watches the fight with amusement. Elia hides her daughter from the sight of the carnage, pushing the girl's face into her skirts, "I did not expect Liselle to be so well versed in swordsmanship."

"She took your uncles memories, remember?" Aria asks.

"I know," Elia blinks, "You mean to say she gained such ability from his memories?"

"Not all of it, clearly," Aria smirks as Liselle bisects one of the men hanging suspended in her singularity, "But we don't use swords, where we're from."

"You use your arcane abilities," Elia guesses.

"Biotics, dear," Aria corrects. Then she looks up at the man still on the rails of Euron's ship, "Hey!"

The man drags his eyes from his captain and the asari killing the opposing crew and down to the Princess and the elder mermaid, "M'lady?"

"How do we get on your ship?" Aria demands.

"The gangplank," he points to a wooden board leaning against the ship and giving a ramp on board.

Aria nods, then turns back to the fighting, "Liselle, now."

Immediately, her daughter disengages from the fight, and she pulls Euron with her as she goes. The Greyjoy turns to her, startled at their retreat from victory, but doesn't fight the pull.

"Mother wants to leave," Liselle tells him.

"And I suppose you always listen to your mother?" Euron smirks.

"She does when I am right," Aria tells him, "And I am always right."

"Are you really?" He snorts.

Aria narrows her eyes and then orders, "Get on the ship and get us out of this city."

The ironborn sighs, "Oh, very well."

"Good, I'd rather not have to kill you, the Starks, or the Lannisters," Aria notes, "I will need somebody to do business with once I've my own kingdom."

Euron blinks at her, but decides not to try and figure out what she means and instead do as she bid. He climbs up the gangplank and starts barking orders to his men.


	5. The Burning Throne

**Space Dragon 5**

 **\- Jaime Lannister -**

"Treachery!" it couldn't be called very surprising that this was the first thing Aerys screamed when his favorite pyromancer rushed into the throne room, covered in somebody else's blood. Then Rossart told him why he looked as he did, and the king repeated himself, "Treachery! Villainy! Curse Tywin Lannister to the blackest pit and the hottest flames!"

Jaime Lannister winces, and his hand slowly makes its way to his sword. There was no way he was going to let himself be roasted like the Starks or any of the thousand other people he'd had to sit and watch die. Of the people within the throne room, only Wrex might prove himself a threat.

The massive Krogan was eying him, too. The toothy smirk, made worse by the very sharp teeth it showed, let the kingsguard know exactly what the battlemaster thought of his chances. They stared at each other, Wrex with amusement and Jaime with trepidation, waiting for the shoe to drop.

Finally, it does, "Lannister!"

Jaime reluctantly turns his eyes back to the King, "Your grace?"

"Bring me your father's head!" The mad man orders.

Jaime's mouth drops open in an involuntary objection, but he knows that it will be useless. If he refuses he'll be killed; but he could fail. He could go hunting for his father, find a large swath of Lannister soldiers, and hunker down in some hallway where he could convince them to say they'd held him off until the King was killed.

Aerys would die, clearly. The city was lost and almost certainly burning as his father's bannermen had their fun. It all came down to whether or not Jaime would die with him, and he had no intention of doing so.

So instead of refusing to follow the orders given he bows his head slowly, turns to the door, and walks from the chamber. He is almost completely out before he hears the mad king say, "Rossart, have your disciples light the fires. I will ascend before I let the fucking lions or the pitiful wolves come to my doors!"

Fuck.

The pyromancer was going to light the wildfire, and that meant that Jaime would be dead by it no matter what he did. He slowed, then finally stopped just outside the doors to the throne room. They swing closed behind him as the moment drags on into infinity, choice and consequence laid out before him.

He could flee, run to his father and warn him so they could escape the city before it went up in flames. He could just run, try and catch the boat the Princess and her family were fleeing on. He could do nothing, and die like a kingsguard was meant to.

Or…

The doors swing open behind him before the thought can really form. The giggling pyromancer Rossart prances out with the skip of a man fifty years younger.

Before Jaime even realizes it, his sword is in his hand and his eyes are on the alchemist's back. It looks like he'd made his choice without even realizing.

 **\- Urdnot Wrex -**

"Rossart, have your disciples light the fires. I will ascend before I let the fucking lions or the pitiful wolves come to my doors!" Aerys orders.

The elderly alchemist beams, and asks, "Which would you like me ordered detonated first, your grace?"

Wrex watches as the mad human thinks for a few seconds, eventually ordering, "light the Sept of Baelor first. There will be divine fires lit against these traitors!"

"At once, my lord!" The pyromancer practically skips out of the chamber, and Wrex catches a glimpse of Jaime standing only a few feet away from the doors.

The old Krogan couldn't really say he blamed the kid. His boss was crazier than a vorcha with a rocket launcher, after all. Boy probably thought he'd have to fight his way out if he wanted to quit. Probaboly true to, he'd seen the way the Lannister had been eying him up.

It was funny, the boy thought he'd have fought him. Sure, he'd have protected the mad man on the pointy chair, but he'd have let the golden boy walk out without a scratch. He was getting paid to protect the pointy chair, not its principles. Honor and loyalty got you killed.

Speaking of, "so where are these jars, anyway?"

Aerys turns his eyes to him, and Wrex can see the mad battle going on. The king thought he was a dragon, the Urdnot looked like a dragon, he couldn't be cross with a dragon! That would be like being angry with himself and he was perfect in every way.

He'd seen the fight played out in a thousand ways over the centuries, always in a client that'd lost their grip on sanity and were sure they needed his help. They wanted him, so they couldn't be as antagonistic to him as they wanted.

"They are all throughout the city!" Aerys finally tells him, "Seeded for months by my trusted pyromancers."

"Yeah, but where?"

"The largest of the caches are here and in the Sept of Baelor," Aerys tells him, rubbing his hands together with glee, "When the Sept is destroyed, they will retreat, and if they do not we will light the flames beneath our wings and ascend to our true forms!"

Wrex blinks, it sounded like the human was telling him they'd blow them up. That wouldn't do at all, "so you're going out like a bitch?"

Aerys's eyes widen in rage, and he turns his gaze to the krogan fully, standing from his thrown, "They will _burn_ for their insolence!"

"And so'll you," Wrex notes.

"I will rise from the ashes," Aerys corrects him, patronizingly, "I am a dragon, fire cannot harm me."

Wrex tilts his head to the side, eyes several of the burns on the king's robes and a few of the ones on his skin and snorts, "right."

The king rises to his feet like an enraged varren, "I will not be taunted by some mercenary frog! If you take that tone with me again I'll have you roasted alive!"

"Really?" Wrex pulls himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against, walking to the base of the stairs leading to the throne. Then he looks around dramatically.

The chamber is empty, devoid of all but the two of them.

"And who's going to do it for you?"

The king screams in rage, and Wrex watches him pull a jar from behind his back, "I shall do it myself!"

The jar, a clay pot with a stopper on one end, doesn't look at all sturdy enough to offer safe travel for a substance as supposedly dangerous as Wildfire. From what Jaime had told him, Wrex likened the stuff to a horrific mix of regular old fire and thresher maw acid. Both, in the end, were lethal to Krogan.

That was why he threw the axe Aerys had given him at the king almost as soon as the jar was pulled.

 **\- The Silence -**

Aria T'loak rocked with the waves, watching the city fade into the distance slowly but surely, "And they won't be following us?"

Standing beside her, working the wheel, Euron Greyjoy doesn't even bother to turn around and look at her or the city, "Not a chance in the seven hells. None but the Lannisters have a fleet, and that's on the other side of the continent."

"So useless?"

"Aye."

The asari nods and turns around, looking forward and into the blank horizon, "how long will it take us to reach Dragonstone?"

"Not a clue," Euron tells her happily.

"Excuse me?" She narrows her eyes at him.

"Never done this run before," The pirate tells her, "Could give you an estimate, around a week if the winds are kind. But the sea's a harsh mistress and the Drowned God loves to play with his disciples."

"A week."

"At least."

Aria growls, but doesn't keep bothering him. She strides down the small flight separating the wheel from the main deck and over to her daughter. Liselle is entertaining the young princess Rhaenys, pointing at the stars and telling her the various constellations of the asari people. Only a few were positioned right to show to the girl, but her daughter was having a lot of fun explaining them to the child.

"I think Rhaenys has spent more time with your daughter than she has me the last few days," Elia notes quietly, stepping up beside Aria. She has a whistful, loving smile on her face, glad that she and her children are out of danger. Aegon, sleeping soundly in her arms, is rocked gently as she watches the two daughters.

Aria gives the woman a smirk, "I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not, she loves her," Elia assures the elder asari, no doubt worried that Aria was afraid that Rhaenys would be causing Liselle trouble.

The former queen of Omega chuckles, "That's very good, then."

"What do you mean?" Elia tilts her head to the side and furrows her brow, confused.

"My daughter is going to be molding yours into a perfect companion," Aria tells her.

Elia still doesn't seem to understand what she means, "And you think this is, what, scandalous?"

"We're in the middle of medieval bum-fuck nowhere, so it definitely will be," Aria chuckles.

Now Elia gets it, and her head rears back in shock, "Your daughter is taking mine as her… lover?"

"Well, not yet," Aria assures her, "she's just getting acquainted right now. She is a child after all."

"And the issue that they are both women?" Elia, being Dornish, had less of an issue with this than most other lords and ladies might have, but it would still be a problem when the last Targaryens wanted to make alliances, "you risk the wrath of the gods, after all."

"Ha!" Aria snorts and barks such an obviously fake laugh that most on the deck stop for a second and stare at her before getting back to work, "Didn't we tell you that Asari are all women?"

"You did," Elia nods, "But you are also immortal maidens from beyond the stars."

"Fair," Aria nods, "Doesn't mean we don't need to make babies. Who do you think we made them with before we met other species?"

"You mean to say you can… with women?"

"Oh yes."

"And what is the child? Some combination of human and… asari?"

"Just an asari," Aria tells her, "So get used to thinking of your little girl as a father, I am."

"I… do not know what to think of this," Elia confesses.

"Don't think about it," Aria pats her on the cheek and kisses her very hard on the lips, "There's nothing you can do to stop us."

The princess of Dorne remains rooted to the spot as Aria walks off, laughing to herself. It seemed that reality had warped, because where once she had seen pleasant – if strange – saviors, she now saw two women that were taking over her and her children's lives without any trouble and no way of stopping them. Now she had no idea what they would do when they reached Dragonstone.

Would they take it over?

Would they leave with her daughter?

Would they give them to Robert's Army?

Would they be returned to her brother in Dorne?

Would they be killed?

Question after question ran through her mind as she tried to figure out the rogue queen's plan. All she knew was that Aria T'loak and her daughter had once held power and were seeking a way to regain it in Westeros. They wanted to rule something; Aria derided the Iron Throne but proudly proclaimed herself Queen.

All Elia knew now was that her daughter at least would be safe, and for now that would have to be enough.

 **\- The other side of the ship -**

Not even fifteen feet away, a very different conversation was happening. Liselle was smiling down at her niece before looking back up, searching for a bit, and pointing back up, "And that is the Goddess Athame, the mother of the asari."

"That's the mother!" Rhaenys exclaims excitedly, "We have her too!"

"Really?" Liselle smiles, "isn't that something?"

"Does that mean you like it?"

"That our people share some commonalities? Yes, I like that quite a bit."

"Commalities?"

"Com-mon-al-ity," Liselle enunciates, "It means we are very alike."

"Yeah!" the little girl agrees. Then she looks up at Liselle from her place in the woman's lap, "Are we sisters?"

"Sisters? No, that would be a bit odd," Liselle tells her, "I'm more, an aunt or uncle."

"You can't be an uncle!" Rhaenys refutes, "You're a girl!"

"Then I guess I'm your new aunty, aren't I?" Liselle asks, recalling how fond Lewyn had been of the girl and realizing how much she was growing to like the child as well. It would be sad when the girl died, in fifty or so years.

 **\- Before the Iron Throne -**

Jaime Lannister rushed into the Throne Room, his sword bloody, intent on making some kind of difference. He stopped short as the doors slam shut behind him, staring in confusion.

The Iron Throne was wreathed in the green flames of wildfire, sitting calmly in the raging inferno as Wrex watched dispassionately, "Damn, I liked that axe."

"Urdnot?" Jaime ventures, "What the fuck?"

"Hm," Wrex turns, then when he sees who's entered he nods in greeting, "Kid."

"Wrex, what did you do?"

The krogan turns back to the flames, and Jaime does as well. He watches as a charred limb falls from the flames, itself on fire. Wrex carefully steps out of the way as it rolls down the stairs and plops onto the stone.

"Aerys planned on setting us on fire, I thwarted him."

"You couldn't have… I don't know, punched him instead?"

"He was up there, I was down here, he had a freaky jar and it didn't look good."

"Wildfire?"

Wrex raises an eyebrow, then waves dramatically at the pyre behind him.

"Apologies, stupid question."

"Yer damned right it was," Wrex chuckles, "Whelp, you should probably let everyone know the king is dead, might stop the fighting."

"What do I tell them happened?"

"Assisted suicide."

"What?"

"I told you, he was gonna set us both on fire," the battlemaster shrugs, "So I helped him."

"Without letting yourself get set on fire as well?"

"I don't like getting set on fire."

"You've been set on fire?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"Last time was about a century ago."

"Last time?"

"I'm almost a thousand years old, runt, I've been set on fire a few times."

"That… how… wha…"

Before Jaime can think of more to say, the doors are thrown open behind them. Both spin, weapons raised, as a company of men in grey armor march in. They aren't assaulted, either because the men had orders or because they were surprised by the burning throne behind the two.

"Ser Jaime," Comes a call from a new man entering. He looked about Jaime's age, which was to say somewhere in his early twenties with more than fifty extra in experience piled on top of that.

"Lord Stark, good to see you," Jaime quips, "I would like to formally give the surrender of King's Landing."

The young lord nods and turns to one of his men, "Get word to Lord Tywin and our own forces, the city has surrendered."

"Yes, m'lord," the messenger nods and trots off.

Stark's eyes move from Jaime to Wrex, "You're the dragon that landed on our army at the battle of the Trident?"

"If you mean when our shuttle crashed, yeah," Wrex agrees, "But like I told crispy, I'm a krogan, not a dragon."

"Cris-" Eddard's eyes move to the burning throne, "The Mad King killed himself?"

"N-" "Yes."

Wrex interrupts Jaime, and the young kingsguard glares at him.

"Which is it?" Eddard asks.

"He was gonna try and set me on fire," the self-proclaimed krogan tells him, "And himself. So I assisted."

"You killed him, then."

"If you don't want to beat the pyjak, yeah, I killed him," Wrex shrugs.

Eddard blinks at the candor, then looks to Jaime, "And did you help him?"

"I got here a moment before you did," Jaime narrows his eyes and glares at the Stark, "I'd come to convince the King to surrender."

Lord Stark nods, then looks to Wrex, "Well, thank you, both of you."

"Me?" Jaime asks, now confused

"Even if you did not help slay him, you were willing to try and convince him to surrender," Eddard tells him, "And then when he was slain you did so yourself."

"No point in fighting if the king's dead and the prince is out of the city," Jaime shrugs.

"The prince is out of the city?" Ned asks.

Wrex is the one who talks this time, "Left a few hourse before you land your boys started fighting."

"Why?"

"Aria wanted to leave and Liselle wanted the kids safe."

"Who?"

Jaime enters back into the conversation, "The other two visitors that came with Wrex, here."

"The mermaids?"

"Apparently they call themselves Asari," The kingsquard corrects.

"Whatever they call themselves they now hold three valuable hostages," All three turn their heads to look to the door. Tywin Lannister stalks into the Throne Room like the man who owned it, glaring at the Iron Throne, "So Aerys was truly as mad as they say."

Eddard looks from the other Lord to the burning throne, then to Wrex, "More or less, it seems."

"Jaime," Tywin nods to his son, happy to see the boy alive but still unable to show more emotion than a relieved blink. His eyes then turn to Wrex, who wasn't even looking at him.

"I thought you're species only got so tall," Wrex notes, looking at the first man to match his height since he crashed on the planet. The human, a tall and bulky fellow, returns the glare with the kind of mad anticipation of violence that he'd see in young Krogan before they underwent their proving.

"Ser Gregor is larger than most," Tywin says, dragging Wrex's eyes down to him, "but more importantly than his size the question as to what do we do with you?"

"You don't do anything but pay me," Wrex tells him, "King's dead, I did it, pay me."

"A mercenary?" Lord Stark's opinion of the krogan drops meteorically in less than a second.

"Yeah, got a problem with that, human?" Wrex turns a glare to the young lord.

To Eddard's credit, he doesn't back away. He does clench his jaw and admit fault, though. As much as he disliked mercenaries and sellswords, they had their uses. If killing the Mad King wasn't useful, he didn't know what was. His only regret would be that he'd been unable to land the final blow.

Most importantly, though, he didn't want to pick any fights unless he had to, he still needed to find his sister, "No, I apologize."

Wrex nods, and his regard for the human returns to about where it was before the disparaging remark: a polite but emphatic _who gives a fuck about your opinion_?

"If you are in need of payment for services rendered, we will negotiate about it in the morning," Tywin tells him, "For now, we must change the banners in the city and alert our forces that the city has been claimed."

Ned nods, "Once the city is secure, I am to relieve Storm's End."

"I can hold the city well enough," Tywin tells him, "Lord Stannis has had to deal with the Reachmen for long enough, I think."

"Agreed," Lord Stark nods, then he looks to Wrex and Jaime, "What of Ser Jaime, he may be your son but he is still a Kingsguard."

Eyes turn to Jaime, who shrugs, "King's dead, until I get a new one I think I should stay out of trouble."

"A good point," Tywin agrees, "You've done your duty as kingsguard, I think it's time you come home and do your duty as my heir."

"That's not what I-"

Wrex slaps him on the back, "Ha, look at that, blushing like a Quarian with her hood down!"

None of the humans have any clear idea what a Quarian is, and decide not to press the issue. Instead Tywin tells the large alien, "In the meantime, please go with my brother, he will compensate you for your service."

Gerion Lannister steps up, "This way, big guy, let's get you paid!"


	6. Dragonstone

**Space Dragon 6**

 **\- Dragonstone Beach -**

"I can't help but feel reminded of home," Liselle notes, the younger asari carrying the Targaryen child on her shoulders as she says this. The former pirate queen snorts in amusement, but she doesn't disagree.

Gazing up at the imposing stone edifice of Dragonstone Aria is reminded of Omega more than any place she'd seen on this planet. It stood tall and proud, a beacon of civilization amongst crashing waves. If she swapped out the ocean for the starry canvas of space, it would have been a perfect contender.

She looked forward to owning it.

As she and her daughter stare at the keep, they spot a contingent of soldiers coming down a sandy set of stairs to meet them. Each wore the customary armor of a Targaryen soldier, and in their lead was a big bear of a man with greying hair and solemn face.

"Ser Darry!" Elia calls from where she stands beside the two asari, drawing the man's attention and bringing a smile to his face.

"Princess," he breathes a sigh of relief and leaves his men a few paces behind as he steps up to get a better look at you, "You're alive. Lord Varys sent word, but after the Sack… we didn't know what to think."

"I am alive, and well," Elia tells him, then turns to Aria and Liselle, "Thanks to my recent companions."

"The exiled queen and her daughter?"

"Is that what I'm being called?" Aria asks, raising an eyebrow.

Ser Darry nods his head, "It's what lord Varys called you in his raven. He didn't mention that you would be blue, though."

"Oh, he didn't?"

"It seems that would have been an important detail," Liselle notes.

"Aye," They turn as Euron joins them, "But that man seemed a slippery fella when I spoke with him."

"He is the sort," Aria agrees.

"Who are you?" Ser Darry asks.

Euron smiles and mockingly bows, "Euron Greyjoy, Ser, here for the gold and the women."

Darry narrows his eyes, "We've your gold, but if you think for one second-"

"Calm down," Aria snorts, "He's already had the women. Me, at least."

Euron smirks at Darry, but his attention is taken by Aria, who runs a hand along his cheek, "But now me must part, isn't that right?"

"Aye," The pirate agrees reluctantly.

"And you know what I'll do to you if I see you again?" She asks.

"I remember," Euron nods, and the soldiers can see how nervous he's suddenly become.

"Good," Aria pats his cheek patronizingly and tells him, "I'd hate to have to clean my boots. Make sure I don't see you again unless I call for you."

"Yes, my queen."

 **\- Lannister Camp -**

Lord and Warlord glare, unblinkingly, at one another. Tywin Lannister knew more about how to manipulate, intimidate, and coerce than anyone in Westeros save perhaps the spymaster Varys, but he could do none of those things to the krogan. Urdnot Wrex was larger than even the Mountain, though not by much, had no ties to the land that he could manipulate, and he was hardy enough to fight off the mild poison in his wine without any struggle.

Wrex felt the same trepidation, glaring at the Lannister. The human was cold, calculating, and if he'd seen the looks between him and the Mountain, could guess what the plan had been for the princess and her children. The warlord didn't have many scruples, but a big point of contention for him was always the killing of children.

Krogan were a dying race, and as a result their children were more valuable than any currency that existed. Even to the idiots that thought the best way to help the krogan was to go out and die for some mercenary guild knew the rules.

Children were off limits.

Tywin Lannister didn't think like that, and it showed. The man thought like an Asari matriarch mixed with a Turian Spectre. He played the long game, and any amount of collateral damage was acceptable so long as the job was done. What was his game, though?

"So what'd'you want me to do?" Wrex finally asks, taking another big gulp of the poisoned wine. He could taste it going down, gave the drink a nice kick to it as it tried to kill his second liver.

Tywin takes a more dignified sip of his drink, then says, "My army will be marching for Storm's End at dawn to give aid to Lord Stark's banners. I would like you to be a part of that force."

Wrex nods in understanding, and asks, "How much're you paying me for this job?"

Tywin grits his teeth beneath his lips. If Wrex had been an average man, he'd have had him whipped, perhaps even executed for his gall. But Urdnot Wrex was a krogan, and thus played by different rules, "five hundred gold dragons, should you actually find yourself in battle. But only two hundred if you do not."

Wrex raises an eyebrow.

"If you are not fighting, you are simply walking, I will not pay any man five hundred dragons for _walking_."

The krogan nods. It was the first time he'd ever run into a stipulation like that, but he could guess that the human was used to getting his own way without having to pay for a figure of Wrex's skill, so to waste so much gold would rankle.

"Alright, I join your army and march south with 'em," Wrex nods, "Then what? Who pays me?"

"My brother Tygett will be leading the army, he will have your gold."

"Another brother? How many do you have?" Wrex asks.

"Three, and a sister."

Wrex nods, then takes another gulp of his wine to wash out the bitter taste that has grown at the tip of his tongue. Standing, he sets the goblet down and turns to leave the tent. He didn't like being reminded that he only had Wreave as a brother, the annoying little pyjack who was probably celebrating his disappearance from the wider galaxy like nobody else.

Tywin simply watches, noting the abrupt departure and wondering if he did have some measure of leverage over the krogan after all.

 **\- Dragonstone Throne Room -**

Queen Rhaella was heavily pregnant. To Aria it looked like she was ready to pop out her next child any second. That she was willing to sit on her throne and greet them like royalty got a bit more respect than the pirate queen would have usually given.

She hadn't held audiences when she was so visibly pregnant, after all. Her enemies would have seen an obvious weakness and exploited it. So she'd spent the last months of her pregnancy hidden in the upper levels of Omega while the father ran the station for her.

"You stand before Rhaella, of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhynor, and the First Men, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and Lady of Dragonstone," Ser Darry, first name Willem according to Elia, announces as they enter the hall.

"This is Aria, Queen of Omega, Mistress of the Traverse, Master of all in her domain," Liselle announces right back.

"And this is my daughter, Liselle," Aria adds after he daughter is finished.

Rhaella nods, then looks at Elia and smiles weakly, "My dear girl, I'd thought you gone."

"I still live, good-mother," Elia tells her, moving up the small staircase to the throne and giving the Queen's hand a tight squeeze, "I, Rhaenys, and Aegon are all well. Thanks to Liselle and her mother."

"Not the Queen?"

"I fear she would have left us to die if Liselle had not become so fond of us."

"Why are they here?"

"I am… not sure," Elia admits, "It may be for different reasons all together that they each act."

"One at a time then, and what you suspect rather than know for fact."

"I think Aria aims to claim the keep," Elia tells her, "And both she and her daughter are gifted with magics I've never heard of. With it, and their skills in martial battle, I know they could take us both and negotiate with Robert Baratheon to keep the island."

"Why don't they, then?" Rhaella sends a concerned look to Aria, who smiles back thinly. It conveys no warmth, no reassurance, and certainly no kindness.

"Liselle," Elia swallows, "She did something to my uncle, Lewyn, as he died. She… copied his mind, and with it his love for me and my children."

"Copied his mind…?"

"It is how they know our language, she learnt it from him at the Trident, then shared it with her mother."

"So, we are at their mercy, even with a hundred men at our call?"

"I fear not even a thousand men would help win a fight against them," Elia tells her, "Their garb is strange, but it is stronger than even the greatest of steel."

Rhaella looks down at Aria and her daughter again, both wearing very liberal dresses. Dresses that fail to hide the fact that they do have some form of skin tight armor underneath. She takes a breath, trying to think of something to say.

Aria beats her to the punch though, "Don't bother, dear. I heard everything."

"What?" Elia breaths out, turning to look at her.

Aria smiles thinly, "We're already better than you in every way, you didn't think hearing would be part of that, too?"

"Mother, be nice," Liselle reproaches her.

Aria turns and glares at her daughter, "I don't need to be nice, dear. I'm the queen."

Rhaella pushes herself to her feet, "No, you are not."

Aria turns to glare at her, then stalks up the stairs. Ser Darry gives a shout for her to stop, drawing his sword. With a wave of her hand he's floating into the air, waving his arms in panic. There is a clattering of feet as a dozen soldiers rush into the room, but they freeze at the sight of Ser Darry floating. Then their eyes land on Aria, and they each decided that it would probably be a bad idea to poke the bear.

The Queen's eyes widen as the biotic forces swirling around Aria tear the dress to shreds around her, revealing her sculpted figure as she stops. They are nearly face to face, with only the gently bump of her belly keeping them apart.

Gulping, Rhaella wonders if this will be the end of her, be the end of her unborn child. She does not wish to die, and whispers, "Please…"

"Please what?" Aria runs a hand along the side of her face, "Please spare me? Please let my child live? Please take my castle and my men? Please take me?"

Rhaella blinks in confusion, trying to figure out how the last question could possibly fit into that list. She opens her mouth, but only air escapes her as Aria runs a hand along the side of her face.

"With pleasure," Aria tells her, "Embrace Eternity."

It all goes strange for Rhaella there. She stops being herself and she starts being somebody else.

Somebody strong.

Somebody powerful.

Somebody evil.

Somebody that takes life by the balls and fucks it how she wants it.

She's Aria T'Loak, the Pirate Queen.

She's Rhaella Targaryen.

She's Daenerys Targaryen.

She's yet to be born, but she can see the world through eyes that have yet to open.

She sees the woman that will birth her, the mother she would always love.

She sees the blue woman that would claim her as her own and raise her to be a Queen.

She was more than the sum of their parts, and she was nothing.

All she knew was that there was a power in her now that would never be contained.

 **\- Storm's End -**

Wrex decided that he hated marching. It was boring, irritating, and he didn't much like getting stared at either. The Lannister forces knew that he was a part of their army, and they knew he'd stolen a horse from the Mountain that Rides. They stared at him constantly for that, not for the fact he was an honest to gods monster.

To the common folk most lords were monsters, Urdnot Wrex just didn't bother to hide it.

Beside him, Tygett Lannister glares at his army, but says, "We make good time, we should be upon Storm's End by midday."

"Great," Wrex grunts, then asks, "I thought there was a war on, where's the other army?"

"The Tyrells have been besieging Storm's End for months, and they are unlikely to assault us," the Lannister general explains, "If any forces were still out scouting, Stark's armies would have dealt with them. We are most likely going to be arriving just as the battle is clearing up, if there was one at all."

"Why wouldn't there be a fight?"

"Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden, is not so stupid as to keep fighting when his King and Prince are both declared dead."

"What about the kid?"

"Who?"

"The one with the stupid name."

"Excuse me?"

"Eggon."

"Aegon? Rhaegar's son, you mean?"

"Yeah, him."

"There's been no word of the prince or either of the princesses since they fled the capital with your companions. If Lord Varys is to be believed, he sent them off with a Greyjoy."

"And?"

"Ironborn are pirates, raiders, and rapers," Tygett thells him, "If they are not dead, they certainly wish they were."

"Ha!" Wrex snorts, "If you think some pirate is gonna get the better of Aria T'Loak I got an aircar I can sell ya."

"Excuse me?"

"Aria's the pirate queen, kid," Wrex tells him, "She ruled Omega, the biggest hive of mercenary gangs, lowlifes, and vorcha in the galaxy. If anyone knows how to take control of a bunch of pirates, it's her."

"And you followed her willingly?" Tygett asks, disgusted at the prospect that he'd served a pirate in any capacity.

Wrex gives him a sidelong glare, "I go where the money is, human."

"What use is money to one such as you?"

"Used to be I'd send a lot back to my clan," Wrex tells him, then sighs, "Now, it's all going into buying scrap of any goddamn kind I can find."

"Scrap? As in, scrap metal?" Tygett asks.

"Yep."

"For what purpose?"

"Need to build a distress beacon," Wrex tells him.

Tygett doesn't understand, but he lets it appear that he does. Instead of continuing the conversation in which he is growing increasingly lost, he nods at Wrex and kicks his horse to trot to the front of the army to speak with his generals.

Wrex watches him go, then looks down at the horse under him. The animal was barely holding him up as it was, he wouldn't force it to trot after the human. He wondered if he'd be lucky enough to get a good fight any time soon.

He really hoped so.


End file.
